


It's Mine.

by SqueezeBabe



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 19:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12613320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueezeBabe/pseuds/SqueezeBabe
Summary: I chose not to use warnings for a reason. Read at your own risk.My contribution to the Halloween effort. If you can think of a better title I'm all ears.





	It's Mine.

“Beka, why did you leave me alone at that party? Where did you go? You were gone for a whole week Beka, you left me on my own for a week!”

I’m looking at your face, searching for the answer hidden in your expression, in eyes that stare back, not quite looking at me, cold and emotionless, and you give me no response. I take a deep breath, trying to fight my emotions, I repeat myself, my voice cracking under the strain. 

You sigh heavily and look away, “Yura, I… I’m sorry.” Your hands make a helpless looking gesture as you turn away from me. “Sorry isn’t good enough Beka! Who were you with?!” The rage takes over and I sweep my hand across the bench, knocking my favourite coffee cup to the floor. It breaks as it hits the floor, the noise causing you to jump and turn, your eyes wide with fear as you stare at the broken cup on the floor. “Beka, I, I’m sorry!” Ashamed at my outburst, I quickly leave the room and grabbing my coat, I leave the house, leaving you to pick up the pieces. 

The streets are nearly deserted. The wind is cold, and the sun feels like it’s struggling to shine. The days have been overcast lately. As I walk past, people turn the collars of their coats up against the chill, shivering. I do the same. It feels like I will never be warm again. The week you were gone, I felt so cold and alone, the house so dark and empty, the place in the bed next to me remained deserted. I can’t help feeling angry, the anger bubbling beneath the surface, leading to my violent outbursts. You’ve only been back a few days, and I’ve broken cups, knocked over things… I’ve even broken the bathroom mirror… and each time, you look at me with fear. It’s starting to eat away at me. 

By the time I come back to the house, it’s dark. You’re asleep on the couch. I take this rare moment to just sit and stare at you. The face that I love so much is creased with additional lines of stress and worry. You look so sad, and it makes my heart feel like it’s about to break. “Beka, I’m really sorry,” I whisper into the darkness, “Tomorrow, we should go and do something together, take me somewhere where we can talk about this? Promise me that you’ll give me a chance?” You shift on the couch, your eyes flutter open momentarily, you shiver and draw the blanket around you. Your breath plumes in the shadow cast by the street light through the window as you whisper, “Yura? It’s really cold…” 

A sad smile plays around my lips, and I turn to find you another blanket. If only I could convince you to come back to bed with me.

The next day is as overcast as the previous. I’ve woken up late and can hear you in the kitchen. I hurriedly put my clothes on, and see you walking out the front door, a bunch of lilies in your hand, carefully wrapped and tied with a white ribbon. I run to catch up to you, and follow you as you walk down the street. We walk in silence, you still refuse to talk to me and every time I try to reach for your hand, something holds me back. Not yet, not until we’ve spoken about what’s going on. 

“Beka, why are we even here?” You’ve opened the gate to the cemetery. A quiet and tranquil place now, not the place that filled me with fear as a child. The sun shining through the clouds doesn’t seem to be able to take the edge off the chill in the autumn wind and I shiver. As usual, you don’t give me a response, and continue to walk among the graves, past the slabs of marble that are all that remains of people's memories. The faint smell of lilies is in the air, either from the flowers you carry, all carefully wrapped, or from the numerous bouquets that lay scattered throughout. 

We walk to the end of one of the rows, and you pause in front of a freshly dug grave. Workmen are finishing erecting a simple tribute to whomever is lying beneath. “Beka, is it someone we know? Is this why you’ve been so cold to me lately? Why didn’t you tell me?” You kneel down to place the flowers as the workmen move away, leaving the two of us alone in silence. “Yura, I’m so sorry…” your voice cracks. I reach out my hand out, wanting to give you some sort of comfort. “It’s ok Beka, we can work through this now that I know what’s wrong… I…” 

I stop. I’ve seen the name on the grave.

It’s mine.


End file.
